[first lines]
Waldo Lydecker: [narrating off screen] I shall never forget the weekend Laura died. A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if I were the only human being left in New York. For with Laura's horrible death, I was alone. I, Waldo Lydecker, was the only one who really knew her, and I had just begun to write Laura's story when another of those detectives came to see me. I had him wait. I could watch him through the half-open door.
[clock chimes]
Waldo Lydecker: I noted that his attention was fixed upon my clock. There was only one other in existence, and that was in Laura's apartment, in the very room where she was murdered.

Mark McPherson: When a dame gets killed, she doesn't worry about how she looks.
Waldo Lydecker: Will you stop calling her a dame?

Waldo Lydecker: Goodbye, Laura.
Waldo Lydecker: [narrating off screen] Goodbye, my love.

Mark MacPherson: On Saturday when our men went to the hotel to tell you that Laura Hunt was dead you seemed sincerely shocked.
Shelby Carpenter: I was. I hadn't expected that mistake.
Mark MacPherson: But you had your alibi ready no matter who was dead.

Mark McPherson: I must say, for a charming, intelligent girl, you certainly surrounded yourself with a remarkable collection of dopes.

Mark McPherson: I suspect no one, and I suspect everyone.

Mark McPherson: Yeah, dames are always pulling a switch on you.

Bessie Clary: I ain't afraid of cops. I was brought up to spit whenever I saw one.
Mark McPherson: OK, go ahead and spit if that'll make you feel better.

Waldo Lydecker: Have you ever been in love?
Mark MacPherson: A doll in Washington Heights once got a fox fur outta me.